


Diplomatic Incident

by TourmalineQueen



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Origins, Dragon Age: Origins - Awakening
Genre: Alistair is persona non grata in Vigil's Keep, Alistair is unjustifiably angry, Dragon Age Prompt Fest on LJ, F/M, Oghren tells Alistair how it is, Sereda Aeducan's questionable taste in men, Sereda made ALL the mistakes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-12
Updated: 2015-05-12
Packaged: 2018-03-30 06:10:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3925780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TourmalineQueen/pseuds/TourmalineQueen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which King Alistair tries to be a King and a good guy and angry with Sereda Aeducan, and his former companion (and Sereda's BFF) Oghren tells him what's what. For the <i>Diplomatic Incident</i> prompt in this week's Dragon Age Prompt Fest.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Diplomatic Incident

Oghren watched as King Alistair - privately he still thought of the human as the little pike-twirler - strode into Vigil's Keep like he owned the place. Since the whole business where he got the crown of Ferelden, maybe he _did_ own the place, but not the same way as Sereda did, Oghren thought grumpily. Then Oghren realised which way Alistair was headed and hurried after the former Warden, nodding at Sigrun, Velanna and Nathaniel to follow him.

They found the King in the corridor where the Warden Commander's study was, quietly opening doors and peeking inside each one. Nathaniel - Nate, Oghren was getting used to thinking of the younger man informally - cleared his throat and crossed his arms, and the King turned and grimaced sheepishly, looking more like the guy Oghren remembered fighting with during the Blight and less like an untouchable Deshyr or King.

"Which one is the Warden's?" Alistair asked.

"I wouldn't advise you to go near her," Nate said quietly.

The little pike-twirler's eyebrows rose. "Do you know who I am?"

"Do you know who _I_ am?" Nate countered.

"I know who your father was, if that's what you mean," Alistair responded harshly. "Are you going to tell me where she is, or do I have to open every door in the Keep?"

Nate looked sidelong at Velanna, Oghren and Sigrun. Velanna ignored him. Sigrun shrugged, looking troubled, "I don't think she wants to see you, or anyone. Your, um, Kingship."

Oghren narrowed his eyes at Alistair and grunted. "You really want to piss her off, eh? Might be fun, seeing a King lose the possibility of ever siring heirs, Nate."

Nathaniel smiled, not a welcoming smile, but one that reminded Oghren and Alistair of his late father. He pointed to the door behind Alistair. "She's in there, Your Majesty," he said silkily.

Alistair drew himself up to his full height. "Thanks."

Velanna left, rolling her eyes. Nate, Sigrun and Oghren all leaned against the nearest wall or door, Oghren waving his hand at Alistair as if to tell him to go right ahead. Alistair glared at Oghren, but Oghren didn't mind - he got glared at a lot, by plenty of folks, for plenty of reasons. Alistair turned and knocked on Sereda's door. She didn't respond. Alistair glared and knocked more loudly on the door. There was no response from behind the closed door. He used his full weight to pound on the door. Nothing.

"Open in the name of your King," Alistair bellowed.

Oghren chuckled, and Nate and Sigrun hissed at him to shut him up.

"I'll only speak to Harrowmont in person," came Sereda's calm voice from behind the door.

"Harrowm- It's me! Alistair!" Alistair sounded really pissy, and Oghren guffawed loudly.

"Then fuck off and tell Harrowmont I won't go through middlemen," Sereda called out. "That's your first warning."

Oghren guffawed and Sigrun snorted into a giggle at Alistair's expression. Nate rolled his eyes.

"We did try to tell you, Your Majesty," he said to the disgruntled King.

"I don't require an audience," Alistair said bitterly, between clenched teeth.

"Then you can leave," Sereda said through a crack in the door, "because I have no desire for an audience, either. Last warning."

"Wait, no, I need to know what happened to Amaranthine - the Bannorn and Arls are up in arms about the Grey Wardens' mismanagement of the Arling of Amaranthine! Sereda!"

The door had slammed in his face before he'd finished his first sentence. He tried the knob and opened the door wider only to jump back as a longsword flew through the air to embed itself in the wood panelling behind him. It was impossible to tell from the angle Oghren was at whether the door slammed shut of its own accord or if Sereda had shut it. Alistair's eyes were wide, focused on the still-quivering blade.

"Yeh didn't care f'r that, did ya, ya little pike-twirler?" Oghren asked, shifting his weight off the wall and back onto his own two feet. "How'd ya think she felt when ya tol' her she meant as much t'you as I did to Branka? Hnh?"

"She recruited Loghain!" Alistair responded defensively. "She allowed that monster into the Order!"

Nate and Sigrun watched the interchange mutely, fascinated by this insight into their leader. The three surrounded Alistair and escorted him out of the Commander's corridor and back into the main chamber.

"The Order approved of that cranky mage bastard Avernus and Sophie Dryden. So, for that matter, did _she_ ," Oghren pointed out. "The Order doesn't give a nug's fuck about anything other than getting the job done. Getting the Archdemon dead. She recruited Loghain to save you, y'dunce! Whatever Duncan did or didn't tell you two upon your recruitment we Dwarves know that it takes a Warden - _and only a Warden_ , despite the Warrior Caste's best intentions - to slay an Archdemon. And that Warden - the Archdemon slayer - is never heard from again, see? Two Wardens means only two chances. Three Wardens means three chances. Follow?"

Alistair's eyes widened slightly. Then he frowned. "But... Loghain survived. So did she. Is the Archdemon not dead, then? Because I distinctly remember having to clean a massive dragon carcass off the roof of Fort Drakon."

Oghren grunted. "Bah, that Morrigan did something magical and apostatey to keep 'em both alive. For her sake - Sereda learned to respect Loghain, liked him by the time they killed the beastie. And now, not a word from him in White-houpppt- Weissshopped- you know where I mean," Oghren belched as he finished his speech.

"And then poor Varel," Sigrun added. "The Legion would have been proud of him. Except for the whole letting an Ogre take him to protect her business. That was a mistake."

"V-Varel? The Seneschal?" Alistair asked, sounding terribly confused.

"Sereda's cursed or something," Oghren commented, raising a finger. "First her Second."

"What?"

"Before the whole Kinslayer business, it was Orzammar's worst-kept secret, her and... uh... Saelac House's scion. Grim or something."

"Gorim?" Alistair stared at Oghren, expression growing more horrified by the minute. Oghren shrugged and nodded.

"Second was the elf. She gave him up for number three. You," Oghren went on, poking Alistair in the breastplate. "If she'd'a asked me I'd'a tol' her to hang on to Zevran. Three - _you_ gave her up when she decided to add Loghain to the party to save your sorry nug-humping ass. Four was Varel, who saved her life, and who she thought was her forever man. See? Cursed. Especially as the ghost of number Three keeps appearing in her Keep questioning her decisions."

"Amaranthine's loss was hard on _all_ of us - I grew up here, for the Maker's sake! But the Mother's Children had already spread the taint. It was either the City or the Vigil. Sereda made the hardest choice I have ever seen anyone make. Possibly not for the right reasons, but for no worse a reason than any other choice she had to make during the Blight," Nate reminded Alistair. "Such as recruiting a man for whom she had no love to save the man for whom she did."

"I... I overreacted, at the Landsmeet, didn't I? I need to apologise to her, don't I?" Alistair said quietly.

"NO!" Sigrun, Oghren and Nate chorused. 

"There would be a diplomatic incident if the King of Ferelden is killed in the Arling of Amaranthine under the watch of the Wardens. Which would probably be worse than the sacking of Amaranthine by the darkspawn under the watch of the Wardens," Nate said, trying and failing to not sound bitter. "Not that that was anyone's fault other than the Architect and the Mother, not that anyone outside the Order will believe us."

"Right," Alistair said doubtfully.

"Even _you_ don't believe us - and you were one of us!" Sigrun piped up angrily.

"It's not that, I do, it's just... How do I make things right with Amaranthine, with Se- with _the Warden-Commander_ , _and_ with the nobles?" Alistair asked plaintively. "I reckon I can do two out of three of those, but... I'd like to make it right with Sereda, too."

"Give her time. Let her grieve," Nate said, not unsympathetically.

"Yep," Oghren agreed, nodding sagely.

"That's the best way," Sigrun added. "We can write to you when she's feeling better. Or you can let her practice sword-throwing some more."

"Maker's breath, no!"


End file.
